


Downtown Serge

by damfina



Category: due South
Genre: Blowjobs, Canadian Blowjob Day, I hate tags, M/M, Oral Sex, canadian blowjob day 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damfina/pseuds/damfina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happy Birthday CKR and Happy Canadian Blowjob Day 2K15 everybody else!  This is meant to be a somewhat tongue in cheek flashfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downtown Serge

**Author's Note:**

> Another last minute submission for Canadian Blowjob Day. One of these years I will plan ahead. I tried to envision how Paul Gross might write a blowjob if Fraser and Ray had a sex scene on the show - sincere but with a heathy dash of humor and awkwardness.

Ray’s apartment sat quiet, dark, and empty all day -- curtains closed, bed unmade, sink full of dirty dishes. The clock in the kitchen ticked away faithfully, counting down the hours until Ray returned to fill the apartment with the sounds of the microwave beeping over that night’s basketball game and the soft groans he made while jerking off in the shower.

 

The tranquility of the lonely space was broken when a sudden THUD cracked against the wooden door, shaking the walls of the apartment -- the sort of thud that could only be made from a 159 pound Chicago flatfoot being thrown against the door.  

Momentary frantic scratching of a key yielded to a metallic click, sending Ray Kowalski stumbling backwards into his apartment with a seemingly ravenous Mountie plastered against his chest.

 

The back of Ray’s knees hit the arm of the couch, knocking him on his back, legs flailing around the desperate Mountie still trying to tug his shirt up over his head. 

 

“Fraser!  Fraser! Hold up a minute, will ya?” Ray spluttered around the hem of his own shirt being pushed up into his mouth. 

 

“Yes, Ray?”  Fraser detached himself from Ray’s right collarbone and raised his uncharacteristically rumpled head, hat askew.  “Is something amiss?” 

 

“What?  I mean no!  Just slow down a bit. It’s not a race to the finish.” Ray grabbed the brim of his stetson, tossing it onto the coffee table.

 

“Understood, Ray.” 

 

“I mean, ya know, savor the moment an’ all that.” Ray propped himself up on his elbows .

 

“I believe I follow your meaning, Ray.” Fraser again disappeared from view underneath Ray’s shirt, reasserting his commitment to the task at hand.

 

Ray leaned back, giving in and letting Fraser’s weight press him into the worn cushions.  God it had been a long time since he had been laid, like a _really,_ embarrassingly long time. 

 

Fraser’s tongue, apparently finished with tracing his collar bones, worked it’s way down his sternum, taking a sharp right turn to find his nipple.  Ray took a sharp intake of breath and arched up into Fraser’s mouth. 

 

Oh _Jesus_ that felt good.

 

“Jesus, Fraser, that feels so good.”

 

Thankfully Fraser’s only response was “hhmmmph” as he redirected his attention to the left nipple, circling it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth. 

 

“Mmmm yes holy crap please Fraser don’t stop.” Ray grabbed two fistfull’s of Fraser’s hair, running it between his fingers, unconsciously pushing him down, down.

 

Fraser took his time -- he traced every space between Ray’s ribs, dipped into his bellybutton , kissed his hipbones, before grabbing at the waistband of Ray’s pants and mouthing at the zipper.

 

And then, oh _fuck,_ Fraser was pulling his zipper down.  This was actually going to happen.  Fraser was _actually_ going to go there. Downtown.  To cruise the magnificent mile.  To conquer the Sears Tower.  To let the windy city blow.

 

Ray squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on the handfuls of soft Mountie hair in his fists, willing his body to stop vibrating with nerves and anticipation.

 

The cool room air hit his lower abdomen as his pants were pulled from his hips and dragged down his thighs. Fraser hooked a shiny toed boot around the waistband at his knees to bare Ray’s lower half completely.

 

 _Oh god oh god_ Fraser was _literally blowing_ on his aching cock. Ray kept his eyes squeezed shut tight, but he knew that even worse Fraser was _looking_ at it, _examining_ it with that ferocious focus that Fraser had about everything he ever encountered.

 

He only had a moment to worry about feeling self conscious before he was enveloped in the velvet hotness of Fraser’s mouth.

 

 _Jesus FUCK_ Fraser’s mouth was beautiful.  It was beautiful to look at and even more beautiful to feel.  Fraser’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock and traced the vein on the underside before swallowing him down in one go.

 

“Oh fuuuuck me Fraseeer” Ray’s hips bucked up erratically. 

 

Fraser paused momentarily to wet his own index finger before returning his mouth to its slow, rhythmic bobbing on Ray’s cock.

 

And then, _oh god,_ Fraser’s finger was working it’s way back.  Behind Ray’s balls.  Further than any woman he had been with had ever gone -- _all the way._

“Oh fuck, _fuck! Fraser, I can’t, mmmhnng, it’s not...”_

The blunt tip of Fraser’s finger probed at his entrance, pressing in. 

 

Ray was no longer just holding onto Fraser’s hair, he was _fucking his face,_ hips thrusting uncontrollably.  Oh god he had spent the last however many months fantasizing about that goddamn crooked tooth and now he was actually _fucking into that beautiful mouth._

“Fraser keep going, I’m good, keep going” Ray encouraged as Fraser’s finger slid into him, finding the smooth surface of Ray’s prostate, and pressing, pressing into it.

 

And then Ray was coming, hard, into the hot irresistible heat of Fraser’s mouth.  And Fraser was swallowing and licking and rubbing Ray’s balls and _fucking fuck_ Ray felt like he had just shot every last ounce of his strength down Fraser’s throat. 

 

“Fraser” Ray covered flushed face with his arms.

 

Fraser lay still next to Ray’s softening cock. “Yes, Ray.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You’re very welcome Ray.  You’re very welcome.”  Fraser dragged himself up to wrap his arms around Ray’s limp body.

 

“Fraser?”

 

“Yes, Ray?”

 

“Your wool uniform is itchy.”

 

Fraser smiled crookedly.  “That, Ray, is easily remedied.” 


End file.
